The Memoirs of Azula
by The Real Ty-Lee
Summary: The life of the princess, as told by her.
1. My Birth

Part One. My Birth.

As daunting a task it is, recalling one's life, I feel compelled to at least greet my audience, of which I am assuming is comprised of loyal Fire Nation citizens. What I have gathered here, loyal subjects, is everything I can remember about my birth.

So how do I even begin? Well, I should begin where we have surely all begun: with my father and mother. My father, as you all know, is Fire Lord Ozai, and my mother is/was Lady Ursa. My birthday being the seventh of August in the year 1991, I can assume that my parents did some… ahem… rather intimate mingling… as the weather grew cold and the leaves burst into flames of color.

I have been told that my mother did not have an enjoyable pregnancy with me, as she had my brother, Zuko. The heavier with me she became, so increased her general misery with headaches, nausea, and dizziness. As she neared her time, she was forced to stay in bed, as she grew very prone to fainting. I have been told that Father spoiled her with sweets and attention. He was ever the loving type when it came to Mother.

My birth itself is also notable. It occurred (or rather began) at my cousin Lu Ten's graduation celebration. Must have been dreadful! Imagine the scene, will you: a wonderfully catered affair, with balloons that matched the table linens and live music. Picture Lu Ten, smiling and splendid in his robes, and my useless old uncle weeping with joy. He certainly was the man of the hour, my cousin. Yes sir. The man of the hour.

Naturally, I couldn't take it. And so I gave a healthy stir in my mother's womb that effectively launched her into labor. Oh yes, dear readers, that certainly drew attention away from Lu Ten. I can just picture him all forlorn and forgotten as Uncle rushed to help my pain-wracked Mother while someone sent for a nurse.

Tee hee! Of course it would be wrong of me to admit how much I enjoyed that.

For all my "timeliness", however, I took my sweet time being born. I took about fifteen hours. As Father so wittily told me, some years later, it was like an opera, only with more exaggerated screaming and much more realistic blood and fluids. My Father truly is a funny man. It's a shame most people don't appreciate his delightful sense of humor. Well, anyway, Mother somehow managed to muster enough strength to push me out, and I was thus born at 11:32 pm.

Father was not expecting a daughter, so there was a great rush as to what I would be named. In a flash of genius, he decided to indirectly compliment his father by naming me after him. Let's see… Azulon. Too masculine for a girl. We must soften it up. Azulene? Awful. Azulette? Wretched. Sounds ridiculously prissy. How about simply adding an "a"? Azulona? Nearly. Still too frilly.

Azula? By Agni, I think we're on to something! It conveys the power and dignity of Azulon, but is effectively suited for a young lady. Yes, Azula will fit the bill! Azula it is! And it looks so beautiful written on a birth certificate.

Azula, daughter of Prince Ozai and Lady Ursa.

I find it notable to add that the first thing I did in my life was pee on the doctor. Father laughed himself sore.

Azula discusses her early life in the next chapter


	2. My Early Life

Azula's Early Life.

It would be impossible to say how many butterflies I'd caught that summer.

Oh, forgive me, dear readers. I really didn't know how to begin. But it is true. As I grew old enough to crawl about outside—under the watchful eye of my nurses—I liked to catch things. Father spent a lot of time with me, considering he had a country to run, and loved watching. Sometimes Zuko would be there, but he preferred sitting by the duck pond with Mother.

"Tuttle-ducks, mama! Wanna frow bread for the tuttle-ducks!" he'd whine, and Mother would hold his hand cautiously as he haphazardly threw chunks of bread at the ducks. Half of the bread never even reached the water, but he was giggling too hard to care. Keep in mind, this behavior didn't change at all until he was about thirteen.

Anyway, Father liked to point out butterflies to me as they flew nearby and whisper, "Catch it, Zulie! Quick like a cat-owl!"

I'd lie in the tall grass, like a hunting cat, watching the hapless butterfly flap around. I'd wait, holding in my breath, trying to make my little babyish body blend in with the surrounding foliage… then I'd soar across the field like an owl and SNAP! The butterfly was writhing in my palm.

"That's my girl," praised Father. "You must always hunt like a cat-owl. Now, what will you do with it?"

I wasn't sure.

"You're very powerful right now, to that butterfly," said Father. "You could kill it right now if you wanted, but you could also let it go free."

Zuko looked at my palm with widening eyes.

"If you kill it, there's no chance of it ever bothering you anymore, but the other butterflies might get mad. If you let it go free, he might come and bother you, but the other butterflies won't notice a thing. Kill it, and maybe the other butterflies might take a hint and leave you alone. That's how it is with power. You must do what you think is best at the moment, Zulie. And don't hesitate once you've made your choice." He smiled and tapped my palm. "And it's best to make the decision quickly. Others will see how confident you are and think that you are right, often times no matter what. It's up to you."

Zuko's eyes were sad as he watched the butterfly flapping desperately in my hand. I made my decision quickly and clenched my fist, feeling a small life expiring against my skin.

Father smiled. "You certainly didn't hold back. Very confident, Zulie. But what if those other butterflies get mad?"

I wiped my palm on the grass. "I'll squash them too."

Father's chuckle as he ruffled my short, wispy hair is one of my earliest memories.

I feel the need to describe myself as a little girl. Sometimes I let people see my old pictures, and they are surprised by how little I have changed. My eyes have been the same since birth, and often that is all that really defines a person. Naturally, I was chubby and had cheeks like a puffin-seal, and my hair, too short to tie in a bun, was nonchalantly tied with—of all things—a large hair bow. To complete the pathetically girly picture, I often had to wear a large apron over my clothes. Mother called me "her little white dove-bear", much to my babyish chagrin.

I did everything I could to be anything BUT a little dove-bear. When I was bored, I ran. I loved to run, and still do. I needed speed, the rush of adrenaline, the wind whistling in my ears. I started at the beginning of a hallway—being raised in a palace, there were great long ones—and just ran!

"Don't trip and fall!" cried Mother, and so I promptly fell down hard onto the stone floor, smashed my head, and lay screaming as my horrified nurses hustled over with sweets and soothing words. I spent the rest of the day in bed with a head shaped like a strange melon, seeing double and throwing up all over my bedclothes. I had a terrible concussion, and a sympathetic Father amused me with puppets, the same puppets sometimes used at Fire Nation Cultural Festivals. When I wasn't regurgitating over the side of the bed, I was laughing as my puppet father lit a puppet Earthbender on fire.

While I'm humiliating myself, I think a story about my idiot cousin getting the best of me is in order.

It was a warm day in summer. This is how every disaster story begins. I was looking for an ant colony to destroy with my pail of water, and Lu Ten was sitting, obviously bored, by the duck lake.

"Hey Zulie!" he called over. "You look bored. Wanna fly?"

I was confused. "I can't bend the air," I said with simple logic. "I can't fly."

Lu Ten laughed with the air of a person amazed by another's ignorance. "Yes, you can. Come here. I can help you fly."

I stood there, my pail in my fist, debating whether or not "flying" was a good idea.

"Come on, don't be a spoil-sport. It's fun!" urged Lu Ten.

My childish curiosity overcame my skepticism, and I walked over. If I had known then what I know now, my answer would have been an emphatic no, followed by a complementary kick to his manhood.

Lu Ten lifted me easily off of the ground and swung me around. It was fun.

Until he accidentally let go.

I flew just like he said, with the grace of a bird, into the lake. Water filled my lungs and stung in my eyes, and it took all of my strength to keep me afloat.

"Daddy!" I screamed. "Daddy! Help!" I went under, then forced my way back up, and screamed. My little dress was soaked with water and was pulling me down.

The next thing I knew, I was looking at the sky, and I heard my Mother's frightened babbling, "Oh Ozai! Is she alright? Oh, Azula, my baby, are you alright?"

I realized that I was in my father's arms. Father looked visibly upset, and he was soaked to the skin.

"Yes," he said in an unusually high voice. "She's fine. I'm just glad I happened to be passing the lake. So glad. I'll be a fool if she didn't nearly drown."

I coughed hard and snuggled into his chest. Through my half-closed eyes, I could see Lu Ten's horrified face as Uncle Iroh urged my father to tell him what happened.

Dear Reader, I wish you could have been there when Father told him who was responsible for nearly killing me. I don't lightly use the phrase "went insane", but that's what Uncle did. For a man who was four inches shorter than his grown-up son, he did an amazing job screaming at him until he nearly reduced him to tears.

I couldn't understand much of what Uncle had screamed, but it seemed to have had a profound impact on Lu Ten, who spent the rest of the day pale-faced, reflecting on his father's tirade.

Me? Mother and Father let me eat ice-cream for dinner, and eventually a shame-faced Uncle came and apologized to me for the whole fiasco. He gave me a small doll, which was an apology present from Lu Ten. Ugly little thing ended up in my socks drawer.

That's quite enough for now. I'll tell you more later.


	3. MidChildhood Part One

More of Azula's childhood…. Part One 

I remember the year I turned five. Five is a very important year in one's life. Most people say you become an adult when you're eighteen, but they don't know what they're talking about. Adulthood really begins at age five. It was when Father stopped disciplining me with little swats and progressed to leather strapping that had me seeing stars in the daytime. It was when Mother expected me to listen to her, understand her, and obey her. It was the year I learned that when people died, it was forever. It was time for me to start acting like a young princess and not a baby.

On a good note, I was finally allowed to abandon my stupid frilly baby garb and begin wearing normal clothes. And I was also finally able to begin learning. I didn't begin real school, but I was taught how to read and write and figure, and a lot of my learning was what I taught myself. Father sat me on his lap and showed me how to move fire, back and forth. We'd sit in front of grandfather's throne and go through the motions of very basic firebending. Much of the bending was Father and not I, but soon I could do it alone with no help.

Father no longer coddled me with tremendous praise, but his eyes were shining as I showed him how I could bend the fire into an arc if I spun a little. Father never really smiles, but if you ever please him, you can see it trying not to show in the corners of his mouth.

I know this sounds random, but I must say it: I really started become more aware of who I was. As children we all sort of rush through our days in a babyish, hysterical haste, but when you turn five, you realize that you are something. People see you as something. You have a task to carry out, and a lifetime to prove yourself. I was a princess. By some twist of fate I had been dealt a very lucky hand. In a book, I read a sobering statistic: In the Fire Nation , your odds of being born in the 3rd class: 85. Your odds of being born 2nd class: 13. Your odds of being born 1st class: 1.999. Your odds of being in the Royal class: 0.001. The odds were against me, 1:1000, and I was born a princess.

Wow.

I would make the best of it, I promised myself. I wouldn't waste my opportunities. I was going to the best at everything.

At night time, I taught myself more bending. I liked to see it come bursting out of the dark from my fist, like a flower made from fire. And, in the months to come, I'd make myself so good that I couldn't keep it a secret…


End file.
